This time, once again I overslept, in the hope to continue the dream I was watching when I was woken up by the alarm of my table clock, but all in vain.
I saw myself reading some wierd kind of books, not as wierd as reading about 'palmistry' or 'tarot card reading' or 'black magic' but something similar. I was reading stories, short stories of the incidents which were the result of some supernatural elements. Incidently, all were not stories as such, and looked real as when some of such stories were opened in the book, they turned into some kind of 3d videos and I could actually live the incidents. Though living/witnessing those incidents/stories was not a pleasant experience, it wasn't frightening either. It was more amusement and humor at times.
In one of these stories, which turned into a video as I opened the page for that story, I saw 'Owen Wilson' (not kidding) leaving his bunglow, crossing the road and walking towards a small broken wall. He climbed the wall which was covered with wires and barbed wires in the shape of a spiral, took an electric wire (high voltage), wrapped it around his neck, and started the flow of current. I saw him electrocuting himself with large size full moon shining brightly at the backdrop. It was not scary, it was rather mystifying.
In another of such stories (rather videos) I saw myself standing in some building, perhaps the terrace and saw a man, terrified as one could be, white faced, red eyed, fear covering his severely wrinkled face, was running from something or someone, perhaps his death. He looked here and there, and moved rather slowly when he reached almost the end of terrace.
None of the stories had the creatures like vampires/werewolfs but they were as wierd as the one I just told.
As I progressed in my reading of these stories, they became more live and personal, and I could feel myself standing and watching the events happening in front of my eyes. They gradually turned into a 3d movie watching experience from a mere reading and visualizing/imagining experience. I would sit for long hours in library when I didn't have classes and read books on these stories at a stretch. I had no idea why I chose a particular book or why I was reading such books. It was a kind of sudden interest that propelled this new desire of mine.
In the next scene, I met my mother in a big temple. I say big because it was 'BIG'. It had huge domes, large area, with smaller temples scattered all over the place and though I don't remember going for darshan to any of those temples, I do remember standing beside my mother, while she collected prashad and the first thing she asked me was if I had completed reading those books. I nodded in affirmation as if it was she who told me to read those books and I didn't show any sign of surprise.
She asked me to collect prashad. I took a plate like everyone and joined the queue. Most of the people in queue were dressed in traditional Indian dress, i.e., girls/women wore saree, and boys wore a dhoti and a cloth covering their upper body. The pundits offering prayers to God and their presence were confined to the interiors of the temples. The sweet(prashad) sellers wore dhoti and a cloth covering their upper body, just like the boys. The only exception was that no man (adult male) was present to offer his prayers in that/those temple(s). Hence I wasn't an adult but a school boy in this dream ! :)
My mother had come to the temple with some of her friends.
My prashad plate (thaali) was filled by different prashads as I progressed in the queue and visited different prashads counter (donno the hindi word!), including a large poori, some sweets and two pieces of some sweet which looked like small thick poori, soaked in sweet syrup(chashni). Of course I paid for all the prashads(sweets) I got but the prashads were supposed to be blessed with the blessings of the Almighty and hence the person who ate the prashads would be blessed for live and that all his bad deeds would be forgived.
One of the sweet seller refused to sell me more than two pieces of his sweet. On my insistence he said that if more were sold to a particular family then brufanity (he might have meant 'profanity', but rather the word looks like 'brutality'+'profanity') would increase. I couldn't understand him, and I was the only one who was asked by his mother to take prashad from him. She said that since he wasn't there in the temple last year, we should seek his blessings as well by buying his sweets, perhaps a little extra than usual amount, and so asked me to take some extra prashad. This might have meant that more the different kinds of prashads one gets, the more blessed one is (this is my guess).
I looked around and saw that other people in the queue behind me and before me had left, rather vanished. No one seemed to notice this prashad seller.
I asked him if he wanted more money for his sweets and he said that money was not the reason, had it been so, the rich would have dominated the others long ago. He said it was something else, which he couldn't tell me. He was getting little restless and irritated.
Like a small baby, I went back to my mother and said that the person refused to sell his sweets.
On watching my mother approaching him, he gave a terrified look like the other people I'd seen in those stories I'd read.
Before he could say anything to my mother, I WOKE UP !!
No comments:
Post a Comment